Comics-based Ficlets
by Slaymesoftly
Summary: Some too-short-for-their-own-page ficlets written based on events in the Buffy season 9 comic. I don't think you need to be following the comics to enjoy this Spuffier slant on various scenes from this season, at least I hope not. A more specific brief summary of the story/situation precedes each ficlet.


Summary: _Follows up on gryfndor_godess's wonderful season 9 comic fic "Picture Perfect". Which you should probably go read first, if for no other reason than for her wonderful Spike pov as a non-canon event occurs at Buffy's party. But I think you'll be able to figure out what happened anyway... Mine is from Buffy's pov, and takes place the day after that infamous party._

**The Morning After...**

Buffy groaned as she began to wake up. Opening her eyes didn't help at all – the sunlight coming in the window was painful, and she shut them with a whimper.

Engage brain, first, Buffy. Then open eyes and do... other stuff. Okay, I'm in my room, in my bed. That's good. I don't think there's anyone else in the bed... also good (unless it's Spike. No, not Spike. Spike was kissing some girl – the picture girl. He kissed the picture girl!)

The growl in her throat made her head hurt again and she stopped thinking about Spike and the picture girl. A few deep breaths and she was ready to try opening her eyes again. Doing so cautiously, she peered around.

Alone. Okay, that's good. Naked? Not so good. Man's pants and belt on floor... a whole world of not good. Spike's maybe? Let's see... OK, not Spike's, and note to self: bending over to look at the floor when you have a hangover? Really bad idea.

She groaned again and shut her eyes. When she had spoken strongly to her unhappy stomach, she gathered her courage, sat up, pawed her way into her bathrobe, and staggered to the door, praying no one else was home. She was almost all the way to the bathroom when she realized she'd just walked past Spike, sitting quietly in a shaded corner of the room.

She squinted at him, searching his face for any sign of disgust or anger, seeing nothing but mild amusement at her obviously uncomfortable state.

"Go on, pet. Have a good hot shower. You'll feel better for it."

"You'd know," she muttered, ignoring his laugh of agreement and going into the bathroom.

When she emerged a half-hour later, clean, dry, teeth and hair brushed, she almost felt human. Human enough to walk over to Spike and glare at him.

"You kissed somebody last night."

"Noticed that, did you?" He seemed unperturbed, and her frown deepened.

"Would you like to explain yourself?" She flinched when he gave her a cold stare.

"Pretty girl. She kissed me, I kissed her back. Seems pretty self-explanatory to me."

He lifted his chin, his defiant expression fading when he noticed Buffy blinking back angry tears. She whirled and almost ran to the kitchen, opening and shutting cupboards randomly as she searched for something that wasn't there. With a final slam, she closed the door of the last uncooperative cupboard and slumped onto a kitchen stool, resting her elbows on the counter and her chin in her hands.

"Buffy?" Spike's voice was hesitant, his hand hovering over her head before dropping to his side. An angry huff as she turned her back on him was the only reply. The tense silence finally broke as she sighed and dropped her head into her hands.

"There are... clothes in my room. Not my clothes. Guy clothes." She kept her head bowed not wanting to see his reaction.

"Yeah, reckon there are. Wouldn't let those wankers that changed in there go back in. Not after you did your Sally Rand act on the table and then fell into bed all naked and whatnot. Told them to come back this afternoon for their pants."

Buffy's relieved smile faded quickly. "My who what act? On where?"

"Before your time, pet. Naked dancer. Used fans and bubbles to hide her goodies. Don't know that she did it on tables, though..."

"You're lying." Buffy's voice trembled with the need for him to say she was right, even as vague flashes of events from the night before told her he wasn't going to.

"About Sally Rand? No I'm not. You can google her. She was famous."

"Please tell me I didn't get naked at my own party."

Silence.

"Was that after you kissed the picture girl?"

"Was."

"Then it's your fault! I was probably upset, and—"

"You were blotto, love. And having the time of your life. Don't try to hang this on me. If I'd wanted you to get naked, I would have dragged you off someplace private—"

"If?" Her voice was small. "You don't want me that way anymore? Is that why I had to go to bed by myself?"

"You went to bed by yourself because I didn't want to take advantage of your condition, and I wasn't about to let anyone else do it. Almost had to bite one wanker." He muttered under his breath, "Bloody arse didn't believe me when I said he couldn't go in there."

"My _condition_ was because you told me you think I'm adorable when I'm drunk. I was trying to be more adorable. This is still all your fault."

"I also told you I find you adorable all the time. Don't put your behavior on me, Slayer. I'm surprised you even noticed our little attempt to make you jealous, busy as you were chatting up that dork in front of you."

"I was not—You were just trying to make me jealous?"

He shrugged. "Was her idea. She said we made such a good couple, she hated to see us not together." He shuffled his feet and looked at the floor. "Tried to tell the silly bint that we're just friends now, but..." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, was her idea. Didn't work, of course, but I got a good long snog out of it."

"What makes you think it didn't work?" Buffy turned away from him, trying to be casual about what she felt was a major admission on her part.

He shrugged again, realized she couldn't see him and said, "Well, didn't try to rip us apart, did you? Didn't punch me in the nose, or throw me out. I didn't have to keep you from hurting her... Seems like it was pretty much a waste of a good snog, if you ask me." He gave a rueful sigh. "She was so sure it was gonna work, she almost slapped me when I suggested we take it somewhere more private."

Buffy whirled around so fast she almost fell off the stool. "You suggested what?" Her hand was flying toward his face almost too quickly for him to react, but he managed to grab her fist just before it connected and use it to pull her closer.

"And there she is." He smiled down at her furious face. "My possessive little slayer." Ignoring her glare, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Have I also mentioned how adorable you are when you're brassed off at me?"

"Make up your mind," she grumbled, leaning into him briefly before sitting back down on her stool. "Do you want me jealous or mad at you?"

"Same thing, innit?"

"No. I can be mad at you for lots of other things besides..." She waved her hand around in the air. "They've got nothing to do with each other."

"So, I get to pick which it is?"

"Maybe? I don't know. Maybe I'm just plain mad at you now... Now that I know..."

"Now that you know there wasn't really anything to be jealous about?"

"Would you have gone with her? If she'd wanted to, would you?" Her question was delivered in an uncharacteristically meek tone, and Buffy kept her eyes focused on the counter, brushing at imaginary crumbs. She felt Spike step up behind her and touch her hair.

"Don't know, love," he said in his I'm-going-to-tell-you-something-you-may-not-want-t o-hear voice. "Earlier in the evening, when we were taking pictures and you... No. Wouldn't have been able to see anybody but you. But by the time she kissed me? I'd spent too many boring hours watching you playing in the pool, dancing, laughing, talking... all with other blokes that weren't me. Thought maybe I'd had my crumb for the night and should move on."

"Why didn't you then?" She reached up and touched his hand where it was resting on her head. Still not looking at him, she repeated her question. "Why didn't you go with her? I know how you kiss; she would have changed her mind if you'd tried."

"Because somewhere in that room," he jerked his head toward the bedroom, "there's a camera with a picture on it of you looking happy to be with me. Wouldn't risk losing that moment for all the willing birds in San Francisco."

"Oh." Buffy tipped her head back to look at him. "We should go find that picture and print it out."

"I'd like that. You did promise me a copy." He dropped his hand and stepped back, giving her room to stand up. He followed her to her bedroom, standing in the doorway while she rummaged around on her desk for the camera and the connector for the computer.

She handed it to him, saying, "We have to use Tumble's computer and printer. It's his camera." Glancing down to where she was still covered by the old bathrobe, she shook her head. "Maybe I should get dressed in something less... hungover old buddy looking? Something to remind you that you think I'm adorable?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "I've been assuming you're still naked under there. Trust me, love, I don't need any more reminders than I've been dealing with since you woke up this morning."

Her eyes flickered to his crotch, then quickly away. She pulled the robe around her a little tighter, saying, "Oh, okay then. We'll just print out the pictures and I'll get dressed... later."

It took a few moments to get the camera and computer up and running, Buffy's hands kept fumbling over things she knew perfectly well how to do. She was very conscious of both Spike's nearness and of her own nudity under the old robe. When she finally got the pictures to load, she moved over so he could see the screen with her as she ran though them.

"So, which ones do you want?" She skipped past all the ones where he hadn't given her the smile she wanted, slowing down when she got to the one she liked. "This one's a keeper," she said without looking at him. "It's exactly what I wanted."

"Still don't get why you wanted it," he said, trying to keep the happiness from his voice and face.

Forgetting his nearness and her own lack of clothing under the robe, she turned to face him. "Because when I thought you were... gone... I had nothing. Nothing, Spike, _Nothing!_ Even that ugly old ring you gave me when we were 'engaged'..." she made little quote marks with her fingers... "went down with the rest of Sunnydale. I didn't have anything to help me remember you – no pictures, no old tee-shirts, no... no nothing..." She trailed off, caught in the expression on his face. "Nothing," she repeated in a whisper. "I had nothing, and I wanted... something..." She raised her hand to his cheek. "I wanted you, and I thought you were gone forever, and I was afraid I would forget what you looked like." She traced his eyebrow, then his cheekbone, and finally his lower lip. "I wanted you," she repeated.

"Buffy..." Spike groaned her name; his hands trembled at his sides. When he didn't touch her, she sighed and turned back to the computer, telling it to print the picture she wanted, and then scrolling through the rest till she found the best one of the two of them together.

"We look happy," she said, studying the photograph. "We look like we're comfortable with each other."

"We look like a couple," he said, moving behind her and putting his arms around her lightly. When she didn't object, he pulled her back against his chest and dropped his head to whisper in her ear. "We look like a couple."

Buffy shivered against him, unable to speak for a moment. _This feels so... right._ She straightened and turned around, putting her own hands around his waist and tipping her head up to look at him. "I think we are a couple," she said, watching him for any sign of disagreement. "Whether we're together all the time or not, I think we are a couple. We just need to learn how to act like one. Would you... can we do that?"

"Think you already know that answer, love," he said, staring at her mouth, now raised to within a few inches of his. "It's all I've ever wanted."

"I think you should kiss me now. That would be the couply thing to do."

"I'm on it." She felt his smile against her lips as he followed directions, banishing any memory of the night before.

**the end**

_Summary: A drabble set early in season 9 comic. Pretty much canon except for the dialogue. In the comic, Buffy is looking around for Spike, but gets in car with Willow and leaves. Spike watches her leave and goes off with Koh_.

Buffy stood outside the car, one hand on the roof, staring around, searching.

"What are you doing? Get in."

"Where did Spike go?"

"Spike? What was he doing here?"

"He tried to save me. Severin was draining us... I thought he was going to…. I just need to know he's all right."

"He's probably fine, Buffy. If he wasn't, wouldn't he have hung around to get help?" Willow tapped the steering wheel impatiently.

"I guess…" Buffy's voice was doubtful, but she lowered herself into the car. "I'd just feel better about it if I'd seen him after…"

XXXXXXXXX

Spike stood on a roof with Koh, watching the car drive away.

"The Slayer searched for you with her eyes."

Spike nodded. "She knows I didn't dust. That's all she needs to know. She'll be alright."

t**he end**

_Summary: A (not so) Comic Christmas that employs the first half of issue #16, then goes it's own way. So, story was Jossed before it was written, but that's what fanfic is all about, right? Twisting canon to make it Spuffy. __ AU season 9 that begins with a little scene between Dowling and Buffy after Dawn and Xander have indicated they seem to be dating – or should be._

_Warning – spoilers for the comic hinted at in the scene change._

**Best Bloody Christmas Ever**

**Mini Prologue to set the scene:**

"Well, we do spend every night together." Buffy's attempt to explain why Dawn and Xander thought they were dating didn't get the response she'd hoped for.

"The girls I date... I usually see them at breakfast in the morning."

_Okay. Guess that put me in my place._ "Good. So we're clear then. We're not dating. _Which is fine. Not dating is good. I don't want to be dat—_

"Hey, Buffy?"

She looked up, hoping her disappointment wasn't as obvious as she was sure it probably was.

"You wanna grab breakfast in the morning?"

Buffy felt her face flush and she tried to hide her smile. Dowling's words sent her from depressed to happy in record time. Considering that she wasn't sure she _did _want to date him, the fact that he might be considering it was making her ridiculously happy.

_I really need to get out more. _

She tried to reply in a tone just as casual as his.

"I won't tell Xander and Dawn if you won't."

He smiled, but changed the subject to their objective for the night.

XXXXXXXXXX

(And we leave this particular comic issue right now while Dowling is unbitten and Buffy has yet to meet Illyria)

XXXXXXXXXX

"So, Buffy. You didn't answer my question about breakfast. It's light now. You can stop looking around. He's not here. You might as well have breakfast with me."

"He? He who? What?"

"Spike. Do you really think no one notices that you look around for him every night? That if the Goodyear blimp goes over in the daytime, you stare at it until you're sure that's what it is?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she grumbled, visions of having an actual date disappearing along with her good mood. "I thought you wanted to have breakfast with me."

"I do. And, just so you know, yeah, that was kind of a way of asking you if you wanted to spend the night doing non-slaying stuff. But I like to think I'm a realistic guy, and I don't want you thinking you have to pretend around me. There's somebody in your life. I get that. But he's not here, and I am. And the holidays are almost here. You shouldn't have to spend them alone."

Buffy just gaped at him. "That is just so..."

"Mature? Insightful? Totally sexy?"

She giggled and stared at him. "All of the above, I guess. When did you get to be so smart?"

He shrugged. "I'm a detective. I know how to read people and put together clues. I don't know what it is between you and Spike, but it's _something_. Something you haven't moved on from yet. But that's okay. He's not here – I am. I know how to play the odds."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So, you and the zompire-hunting cop – you're a thing now? Are you bringing him to the Christmas Eve party?"

"We not a... a... thing. We're just a sort of... almost, maybe a thing. It's complicated."

"Buffy's love life is complicated. There's a surprise." Dawn smiled to take the sting out of her words.

"Very funny. This is the closest thing to a normal guy I've been around since Riley. I'm not sure I even know how to be part of a 'thing'."

"Well, give it a shot. I'm tired of watching you moping around, and he makes you smile, so I say go for it. What's the worst that could happen? Spike comes back and sees you dating somebody and goes off in another snit. So what else is new?"

The horror on Buffy's face brought a quick correction. "Not that he would. Leave again, I mean. He wouldn't. He'd stay here and fight for you. You know he would!"

Buffy shook her head and sighed. "No, he wouldn't. He'd see me with somebody normal and he'd... he'd think I had what I wanted and he'd go away again. Forever."

"Spike doesn't do forever. Not when it comes to you. The only thing he knows how to do forever is love you."

Buffy grimaced. "Just in case you've forgotten... my track record with guys who swear they'll love me forever is that they end up leaving me. Apparently it's easier to love me when I'm not around."

Dawn put a sisterly arm around Buffy and squeezed. "Well Christmas is coming, so you should try to enjoy yourself. Speaking of which, what do you want for Christmas? I don't have anything for you yet."

"_Spike. I want Spike. And I don't know how to find him to tell him so_."

She slapped her hands over her mouth. "I didn't mean to say that out loud. Ignore it."

"You didn't. You whispered." Dawn sighed. "How about something a little easier to find? Like a new sweater, or a winter coat or something?"

XXXXXXXXX

"Are you coming tonight? You're coming, aren't you?"

"Yes, Dawn. This is the third time you've asked me to tell you I'm coming to the party. Do you think I'm lying?"

"No. It's just... you're all 'something came up' girl sometimes, and I want to be sure you're going to be here."

"I'll be there. And Dowling's probably coming with me. We're taking the night off from chasing zompires."

"Oh. He's coming with you. That's... that's nice."

"Didn't you think he would be?"

"Oh, no. No. I mean, yes, I thought he'd be there. I mean you and him... almost a 'thing', so of course he'd be with you."

"Daaawwwnnn, what's going on?"

"Nothing. Nothing's 'going on'. Sheesh. A girl can't even worry that her sister the slayer might miss her Christmas party for some stupid reason without being accused of... whatever?"

"Fine. Fine. We'll be there. If we don't run into any zompires on the way, we'll probably even be clean and well-dressed."

"Okay, see? That's exactly the kind of thing I was talking about. You don't go looking for zompires on your way to a party. Normal people don't _do_ that."

"Right. Normal people."

"You know what I mean..."

"Sadly, I do. Okay, no zompire slaying unless one throws itself on my stake..."

"Just be here, Buffy. Gotta go. Bye."

"Bye—" Buffy was saying good-bye to a dial tone.

XXXXXXXX

Buffy and Dowling entered the gaily-decorated apartment in a flurry of laughter and greetings for the first few people they ran into. Looking very much like half of the couple they almost were, he took her coat from her and walked toward the bedroom with it. He was just turning away from the bed full of coats when he saw Dawn pass by. He glanced down the hall to see her pleading as quietly as she could with someone he couldn't see. Before the other person could come into view, Buffy called his name and he turned away to rejoin the crowd in the living room.

Buffy took his hand and pulled him toward the food table, then froze. Her face went white, then red, then back to white and her eyes darted around the room.

"What's wrong? Are there vampires here?"

"Wha—no! No vampires. I mean I don't think so, cause I'd feel them if he-they were. I'll be right back." Without even looking at him, Buffy marched across the room and into the hallway he'd just left. As Buffy arrived, Dawn had exchanged pleading for yelling.

"Don't you go getting all huffy with me, buster. You left her. You left her here without anybody and now there's a somebody and if you don't want that somebody to have her, then you're going to have to stay here and do something about it. If you get back in that ship—"

"She's happy, Bit. Can see it. I don't know why you called me back here, but she obviously doesn't need me here complicatin' her life. If you think she needs me to help with this turned Slayer, I'll hang around long enough to do that, but I think I've had my fill of watching her having fun at parties with blokes that aren't me. I'll catch up with her somewhere tomorrow..."

"I called you back here, _moron, _because when I asked her what she wanted for Christmas, she said _you_. That's what she wants. Dowling is a nice guy, but you're who she wants. She just thinks you don't want her any more."

"Well, that's just bloody stupid..."

"That's what I said! But if you leave—"

Spike's nostrils flared suddenly and he looked toward the door of the bedroom in which he and Dawn had been arguing. As he watched, Dawn turned and saw what he was scenting. Her eyes got big and she backed out of the doorway. She pointed at him, saying, "Stay!" then disappeared.

There was an angry whispered conversation that was perfectly audible to Spike's vampire ears, and then the scent became stronger and he heard Buffy's rapidly beating heart. She stopped in the entrance, staring at him with an expression he couldn't read before coming in and closing the door behind her.

"Hey," she said, never taking her eyes off his face.

"Hey, yourself," he replied, searching her face for some clue as to what she was thinking.

Conversation exhausted, they continued to stare at each other from across the room, until Spike finally broke the silence.

"Look, pet, I'm sorry. I didn't know she was going to spring me on you like this. Thought you knew she'd called me back to... to help you with that slayer-turned-zompire."

"That's not why she called you back," Buffy said, looking away from him. "I was listening. I know what she told you."

"Yeah, well. 'S not like I believed her. Know better, don't I?"

She brought her frowning gaze up to meet his so quickly he blinked. "You do?"

"Of course I do, Slayer. Saw you when you came in. Got yourself a fine looking breathin' man to go to parties with and slay vamps and have picnics in the daylight and—"

"Could you _be_ more full of yourself?" Her sudden accusation hurt only as long as it took him to get mad.

"I beg your pardon? Full of myself? Pretty sure I'm giving you plenty of room to have what you want. Take it, you stupid bint."

Buffy's narrowed eyes caused his own eyes to flare yellow as she advanced on him. "Who are you calling stupid? I'm not the one that went running off to God knows where with a bunch of bugs, leaving me here to worry about you and miss you and—" By now she was only inches away, close enough to watch the yellow fade as his expression softened.

"You missed me?"

"Of course I missed you! Why wouldn't I? I was going to run away with you, for crap's sake. You were my... my safe place. My long-haul guy. The one who's always there for me. And all of a sudden – whoosh! You go off to 'find yourself'." She stopped to take a deep breath. "What did you think I was going to do? Just sit around here missing you and waiting for you to come back? Huh? Is that what you thought? Cause Buffy isn't like that. Buffy is a new woman. She dates if... if somebody asks her out... And she..." She stopped, peering up at him from under her eyelashes. "I think I'm losing the thread here..."

"I think I caught it." He moved even closer, until only fractions of an inch separated their bodies. "I'm a jerk for leaving, you missed me, but you weren't going to sit around being miserable, so you went out with the first man who asked you. Is that about it?"

"Yes! No! That's not what I said... Is it?" Her lip came out in the pout she knew he couldn't resist. It briefly crossed her mind that she hadn't used that pout on him since their disastrous "affair" so many years ago, and she glanced up to see if it was having the desired effect. Instead of the lustful expression she expected to see, he was grinning at her.

"Really, love? You must be feeling really insecure. You haven't pulled that lower lip trick on me since our 'engagement'."

"I'm not feeling insecure! I'm just trying to be... I'm trying to distract you." Her expression changed from annoyance to fear. "Are you saying I can't distract you any more? Are you that over me?"

He heaved a sigh and ran his fingers through her carefully curled and brushed hair. "Don't expect to ever be 'over you', sweetheart. Thought I might be workin' on it once or twice, but it never took. It's just that... I'm more interested in being in your life than I am in being in your pants. Don't want to be your walking dildo again."

"Is that what you think I'm saying? That I just want you because I'm horny?"

"I don't know what you're saying, Buffy. Niblet says you've been unhappy without me. You're telling me you're dating and having a good time. But while your date is waiting for you out there at the party, you're pokin' that lower lip at me like you want me to bite it. Don't know what to think – except that I could probably use a good stiff drink..."

She sighed and stepped away from. "That's probably a good idea. I think I could use a drink too."

"Not going to go dancing on any tabletops are you?"

"I think one embarrassing episode like that in my life is plenty, thank you very much." She whirled to face him just as they started out the door. "But if I did get drunk and try to do something that stupid, I expect you to stop me this time!"

"You'd expect that, would you?" He held the door for her as she went into the hall where she bumped into Dowling. Her eyes flickered back and forth between the two men as they greeted each other like old friends.

"Spike! Buffy didn't tell me you were going to be here. It's good to see you. Are you staying long?"

"Depends," Spike replied, shaking Dowling's hand. "Want to take a look at this slayer-zombie. See if she's got the right stuff. Been a long time since I got to fight a slayer, I'm looking forward to this one."

"So, that's why you're here? To help us take out the zompire?" Dowling's expression was bland, but the hope behind his eyes was impossible to hide.

"Among other things. Niblet wasn't really clear on everything I was needed here for."

Dowling nodded. "Well, there might have been some other things, but I think they're okay now. Or on their way to being okay."

A muscle in Spike's jaw twitched as he met Dowling's challenging stare. "Guess we'll find out, won't we?"

"Okay then! Everybody's said hello. Wasn't there talk of drinks? Tasty adult beverages, because we're all adults and..." Buffy ran out of artificial cheeriness as both men shook their heads and brushed past her to the bar. "All right, it could have been worse..." she muttered to herself as she followed and watched them touch their glasses together in some sort of toast that required them to hold each other's stare while they drank.

Spike's drink went down quickly and he held the glass out for a refill, while Dowling was still trying to match the vampire's ability to guzzle a full glass of whiskey within a few seconds. He finished up coughing and gagging, but bravely held out his own glass to be refilled too.

"So... is there going to be bloodshed?" Xander had come up behind Buffy while she was watching her date and the vampire she'd thought was gone again.

"I don't think so. Do you think so? I mean, there's glaring and manly posturing, but I don't see any fangs or stakes." She turned her head away from the still drinking men to look at Xander. "And don't think I'm going to forget that you probably knew about this and didn't give me a heads up."

"You're one of my oldest friends, Buffy. But I live with Dawn, and your sister can be scarier than you when she wants to be. I tried to tell her you should know about it, but she wanted it to be a surprise present."

"I think you could say she managed that. Not sure which one of us is the most surprised, to tell you the truth."

"Well, Spike knew you were going to be here, so he shouldn't have been surprised..."

"He didn't know I was going to have a date with me. He was ready to leave without even seeing me. If I hadn't felt him..." She shuddered. "I would have lost him again and never even known about it."

Xander studied her frightened expression, then put his arm across her shoulders. "If that's how you really feel about him, I think you should tell him. And Dowling. He deserves to hear the bad news before he's in too deep."

"I know." She sighed. "I think he's the only of us not all that surprised. I mean, he was surprised that Spike was here, but he knows—"

"He knows what everyone except Spike does? Yeah, that would explain the way he's trying to drink himself unconscious... oops! Looks like he's about there..."

Buffy's gaze went back to the bar where Dowling had just collapsed, caught before he hit the floor by a grinning Spike, who had no trouble carrying the passed-out man away from the bar and to an empty easy chair. He deposited Dowling there and turned to search the room for Buffy.

Who was rapidly approaching him with fire in her eyes. "What did you do to him?"

"Drank him under the table. What did you think I was going to do? Need to talk to you and can't have some bloke thinks he's your date listening in, can I?"

"Maybe we should leave?" She stared dubiously at her snoring date. "How long is he doing to be out?"

"No idea," Spike said cheerfully. "But he's fine – good strong heartbeat and what all. Probably won't feel real great when he wakes up, but..."

"We should take him home," Buffy said. "He deserves to wake up in his own bed."

"Whatever you say, love. So long as he's waking up alone..." He didn't even try to suppress his sigh. "Get your coat?" He started toward the bedroom.

"You won't know which one... oh yeah," she made a face as he raised an eyebrow and tapped his nose. "The smelling thing. So gross."

"Has its uses," he said as he disappeared and returned almost immediately, holding her coat for her. While Buffy shrugged it on, he picked up the unconscious Dowling and put one arm across his shoulder. With a strong arm around Dowling's waist, he managed to make it seem he was just helping a friend to the door – not carrying a heavier man with one powerful arm. Waving at Dawn and Xander, Buffy held the door open and then followed Spike and Dowling out.

"How far are we going, pet?"

"Is he too heavy? Here, let me help—"

"'S not that. It's just I don't want to be stopped by any of his police buddies wondering why I'm carting his arse around."

"Actually, he lives right up there." Buffy pointed at a near-by building.

It took only a few minutes to get to the building and for Buffy to search Dowling's pockets for the keys needed to get in to the building and then the apartment. She gave a half-hearted smile to one the neighbors who recognized her. "Too much to drink," she explained. "He'll be fine."

The neighbor tsked and went about her business. Breathing a sigh of relief, Buffy pointed to the door of Dowling's apartment and ran ahead to use the key to open it. Spike followed her in, now carrying Dowling over his shoulder in a fireman's carry as he went down the hallway to the bedroom. He dropped his burden on the bed and stood there, nostrils flaring.

"If you're sniffing around, trying to figure out if I've been sleeping here, I'll..." The look on her face made it very clear what she intended to do to him.

"Sorry, love. Could have just asked you, couldn't I?"

"Because it's any of your business, Mr. I've-been-gone-forever-and-tried 'moving on'?" The deadly glint in her eyes hadn't softened and he backed away, hands raised in front of him.

"Right. It's none of my business. Absolutely none of my business. Got no claims on you, no right to—"

"Damn right you don't," she grumbled, trying to hang on to her anger. "And just so you know, and can stop that gross sniffing stuff, no, I don't sleep here. Not yet, anyway..."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means... I don't know what it means. I wasn't expecting you to show up. I thought I needed to... to open my... mind... to the idea of falling—being with somebody else."

"And now?" He approached her slowly, his expression unsure but hopeful. "Still think you need to be open to... whatever you're trying not to say... with somebody else?"

"I don't know," she said, her lip coming out in a genuine pout this time. "Are you going to go running off again?"

"Not if you don't want me to." His response was quick and calm, but his eyes were riveted on her lip. "But you need to be clear, Buffy. I don't want to be jerked around – playing the old friend and fightin' buddy. I'll help you out when you need me, but I won't stick around waiting for you to notice I'm here."

Buffy put her hand to his cheek, stroking it as he leaned in. Forcing herself to maintain eye contact, she said, "I always notice when you're here, and I hate it when you're gone. I'm sorry you couldn't – I didn't tell you how important you are to me. I'm not good at it stuff like that. You know that. You know me better than anyone – couldn't you tell?"

"Needed to hear it, sweetheart." He turned his head and kissed her palm, holding it against his mouth. "Needed to be sure. Been wrong before. Never want to be that wrong again."

Buffy knew immediately he was referring to all the times before that he'd tried to convince her she loved him, and what it had cost them.

"You weren't wrong, Spike. I just wasn't willing to believe it was possible. I was too stubborn and too... unhappy about being alive... to feel it."

"And now?"

"And now I can tell you – when you aren't even on fire. I love you, Spike."

A groan from Dowling brought their heads around. They had completely forgotten that they were standing in the bedroom of the man she was dating. As soon as Spike ascertained that Dowling was still asleep, he took Buffy's hand and began to pull her toward the door.

"Don't think your date's bedroom is the right place for this kind of conversation, love. Got someplace else we can go?"

"I've got roommates," she said pulling the door shut behind her and checking to see if it had locked. "What about you?"

He shook his head. "Just had the bugs drop me off on Dawn's roof. Wasn't looking for a place to live until I knew what was what." He pulled out his wallet and checked the contents. "But I've got enough money to get us a nice room for the night, and maybe tomorrow night too." He cocked his head at her. "What do you think, Slayer? Are you willing to spend the night before Christmas in a hotel with me?"

When she didn't respond right away, he put the wallet away, saying quickly, "Don't have to. Wasn't presuming, pet, just thought we'd do a better job of thrashing things out if we didn't have to worry about your roommates."

"I didn't say I didn't want to, I was just trying to think about the closest nice hotel. It's not like I've got a lot of experience with places like that."

"May as well start getting used to it," he said, smiling again. "I plan to show you the world, one five-star hotel at a time..."

"I'll settle for the Hyatt that's about six blocks from here," she said with a shy smile.

"The Hyatt it is, then." He held out his arm. "My lady?"

"Thank you, sir," she simpered in her best imitation of what she thought a Victorian lady might be like. His rich laugh told her she'd hadn't quite made it, but the warm smile he followed it with said that he appreciated the effort. Their attempts to appear to be a well-behaved and gently-raised couple lasted only until the end of the block when a deep snarl brought them whirling around to stare into the darkness.

"Is that her?"

"Yep. Zompire on steroids. She's beatable, though. Just tougher than most."

"My kind of fight," he said, bringing his own game face to the fore when the zompire emerged and snarled at him, clearly expecting to see some sort of fear on his face. She hesitated just long enough for Buffy to flank her, leaving her no choice but to turn her back on one or the other of the enemies facing her. Screaming in frustration, she dove at Spike, claws out and fangs gnashing. Rather than dodging, he met her tooth for tooth, claw for claw, growling his own challenge.

Buffy danced around their whirling, snarling bodies, afraid to plunge in with her stake while they were so intertwined. It wasn't until the zompire pinned Spike to the ground that she began to worry about him. Worry that soon vanished as he kicked the creature completely away, giving Buffy time to land on her, stake first.

She shook her head, knowing from the dust that the zompire was gone, but having a hard time believing it was over so quickly. She stood up, brushing herself off and leaning against Spike who was standing behind her with his arms around her.

"Good night's work, Slayer."

"You did it," she replied, tilting her head back to smile up at him. "All I did was drive the stake in."

"That's the important part, yeah?"

She turned around, putting her own arms around his waist and standing on her toes to nibble on his lips.

"Weren't we on our way to somewhere less... public and chilly?"

"That we were. Race you there..." He glanced down at her high-heeled boots. "Or not."

"Hey, I can run in these, I'll have you know. I just fought in them, didn't I?"

"That you did, love. But what say we just walk as fast as we can?"

XXXXXXXXXXX

"Oh God. I missed that—you, so much."

He chuckled. "I heard you the first time. Nice to know I haven't lost my touch."

"I think your touch is just fine," she purred. "I'm not sure about mine, though... I might be a little out of practice... mmmmm?" She slid down his body and closed her lips over his cock, smiling around it when he gave a sound somewhere between a sigh and a sob. He let her show him how much she remembered about pleasing him for as long as he could stand it, then stopped her with a gentle hand and a whisper.

"No more, love. Come up here." He tugged her up his body, then rolled them over. "Want to be in you when I come the first time. I've waited too long for this, had too many dreams that turned out not to be real. Need to feel you around me."

Buffy silently wrapped her legs around him and pulled him in, gasping as she felt him filling her. For several minutes they just lay together, lost in the sensations so familiar, and yet so new.

"Could dust happy right now," he said, beginning to move his hips. "Wouldn't even notice it."

"Please don't," she replied. "I've got plans for this body, and they don't include sweeping it up and putting it in a baggie."

"Plans, huh?"

"Oh yeah. Big plans. I've-been-waiting-for-too-long-plans. I'm never letting you out of my sight again. You hear me, William? Never leave me again." She squeezed him to her with powerful arms and legs, her inner muscles doing their own best to keep him where she wanted him.

He groaned and began to thrust harder. "Never, Buffy. Never again. Won't leave you. Couldn't. Not now." Feeling her beginning to quake around him, he let himself spurt into her. "I love you, Buffy. Love you so much!"

As he collapsed on top of her, she murmured in his ear, "I love you too, Spike. I love you."

They were still for a few moments, then Buffy felt him growing inside her again. She smiled up at him.

"Merry Christmas to me," she said, squeezing him again.

"Merry Christmas to both of us," he corrected, groaning in spite of himself. "Best bloody Christmas ever..."

"Best Christmas ever," she echoed, flipping them over as the bedside clock turned midnight . "And it's just beginning."

**The end.**

_Summary: Another one set around the same time, but without the Dowling drama and side story. A bit less canonical, and more Spuffy._

**New Year – New Memories…**

"Slayer? What the hell are you doing out here tonight?"

"It's just a night, Spike. There could be evil about – doing, you know, evil things."

"There's nobody within miles. It's New Year's Eve. Even the vamps are partying." He cocked his head at her. "Which leads me to the question, why aren't you all gussied up and dancing your cute little arse off somewhere?"

"Didn't want to," she said, her body language making it very clear that should be end of that line of questioning. But this was Spike….

"Bollocks! Try that on somebody who doesn't know you as well as I do. The girl who had two San Francisco cops boogying on a table with her isn't skipping New Year's Eve because she didn't feel like partying."

Buffy winced. "Can we not talk about that night, please? I'm still trying to remember what I did and who I did it with." A low growl was her only answer and she flinched again before finding her righteous indignation. "Don't you growl at me! You were kissing some… some skanky brunette. And for all you know, I didn't do anything with anybody! So just… shut up."

"Still haven't answered my question, pet. Why aren't you at a party somewhere?"

"Idon'thaveadate," she mumbled, turning her head away and hoping he'd leave it alone. _Fat chance, Buffy_

To her surprise, instead of mocking her, he shook his head and sighed. He offered her a leather-clad arm. "Can't have a travesty like that, can we? Miss Summers, would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you tonight?"

The unfamiliar language and studied mannerisms left Buffy speechless, even as she automatically took the proffered arm. They started walking down the street in the general direction of Buffy's apartment, strolling peacefully until she came to an abrupt halt.

"What are you doing? What are _we_ doing? What are you up to?"

Another rumbling growl told her that wasn't the well-mannered response he'd been looking for. "I'm offering to give you a 'date' tonight, so you can go to whatever bloody party it is you're ducking out of. Can you just, for once in your bloody life, let me do something nice without questioning my motives?"

"Oh," was the best she could come up with after a moment of silently studying his face. They began walking again, more quickly this time, as Spike's anger went to his feet. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I would love to go to the party with you, William."

"Fine," he said gruffly, pointing to her front door. "Up you go then. Get into something frilly. I'll be waiting here when you get back."

"You don't want to wait upstairs?" She frowned, suspicion once again clouding her eyes.

Spike gave an exasperated sigh. "You want to go with me like this?" He gestured to the jeans and tee-shirt visible under his unbuttoned duster. "Go on. I'm just going to find something else to wear."

"How… where…?"

"Gonna rob a bloody clothing store if I can't find someone my size to mug," he growled. "Would you just quit worrying about what I'm doing and go make yourself pretty? Prettier," he added quickly when her eyes narrowed. "Make yourself prettier."

"Nice save." Her mouth twitched in spite of herself. "Go on. I'll be down in a little while."

XXXXXXXXXX

When a much cleaned up Buffy came down the steps, walking carefully in her new four inch pumps and holding her only winter coat tightly around the black silk cocktail dress she'd splurged on last week, Spike was waiting for her as promised. His ubiquitous duster was still there, but she could see the black trousers and dress shoes visible beneath it. She pushed the coat open to find Spike's upper torso covering in a form-fitting black dress shirt that emphasized his white skin.

"You look like you might have mugged one of the boys from the coffee shop," she said with a teasing smile. "They like to show off their bodies like that."

"If you got, flaunt it, love." He smiled back at her and held out his arm again. "Are you going to be able to get where we're goin' in those… interesting… shoes?" Unspoken was the "come-fuck-me-heels" that he would have once used for shoes like that. Matching sighs and small smiles were their only nods to their shared past. Buffy tucked her arm in his and pointed down the street.

"Nope. No problem. It's just right there."

Once she'd pointed it out, the music and laughter that had just been typical New Year's Eve background noise up until that point, became more noticeable. He identified the building and began to walk. It took only a few minutes to reach the front door, and another one for someone to answer the buzzer. "It's me, Buffy," she said into the intercom. "Sorry I'm late. Can we come up?"

The door was buzzed open without any verbal reply, and they entered, quickly locating the elevators. Buffy had released his arm when she used the intercom, and they reached the party no longer touching, but obviously together.

"Who are these people?" Spike asked as he knocked on the door. "Do I know them?"

"They're friends of Dawn and Xander's. I couldn't come without a date because that was my excuse for not allowing Dawn to fix me up with some guy Xander works with."

"If you think Dawn is going to buy—Hey there, Niblet. Thanks for inviting us."

"_Us?_ There's an 'us'?" She stared back and forth between Buffy and Spike, her eyes narrowing when she caught the guilt on Buffy's face. "You are so full of it! Both of you."

"We have no idea what you're talking about," Buffy sniffed. "I said I already had a date, and here it—he—is."

"We'll just see about that," Dawn muttered, turning as the host and hostess walked up. "This is my sister Buffy," she said with an abrupt change in demeanor. "And this is her… date… Spike. Buffy, this is Alice and Roy. They live here. It's their party."

"Thank you for including us," Buffy said, smiling at them while Spike took her coat. "This is William, but you can call him Spike."

"Sounds like a dog's name," Roy said, elbowing Spike. "Is that what she calls you when she wants you to come to heel?" He roared at his own joke, while his wife rolled her eyes and made apologetic faces at Spike and Buffy.

"No," Spike said, his face showing no trace of the anger Buffy saw in the set of his shoulders. "That's what she calls me when _she_ comes." He dropped their coats on the stack and walked away, quickly finding the bar and helping himself to a stiff drink. He could feel Dawn and Buffy glaring holes in his back, but ignored them, sitting on a narrow bench to enjoy his drink and check out the rest of the guests. His eyes followed a pretty redhead as she walked past him. Unable to pick up a trace of heartbeat from her, he watched as she joined a drunken man who seemed delighted to see her. She put her arms around his waist, smiling indulgently up at his slack face.

"Do you think she's okay, or should I dust her? And by the way, you are soooo dead!"

"Love you too, pet." He shrugged and moved over to make room for Buffy to sit beside him. "I don't know. She's definitely a vamp, but she looks like she genuinely likes that bloke. Maybe it's alright. Probably wouldn't make a very good impression if you staked one of the other guests right off the bat."

"I think good impression went out the window when you decided to be a bigger ass than the host is." She nudged his side. "And you're the one who's going to find a way to explain to Dawn that you _were_ just being an ass and I'm not sleeping with you again."

"Night's young, Slayer," he said with a grin, putting his arm around her and hugging her too quickly for her to have time to object. He stood up and held out his hand. "Let's get you something to drink, yeah? We're several hours behind everybody else here when it comes to alcohol consumption. Need to catch up, don't we?"

She allowed him to lead her to the bar where she firmly insisted she was only having one drink and she was saving it for midnight champagne. Spike just smiled and fixed her a rum and coke. "Here you go, Slayer. Live a little."

"I think I did that already. It didn't go well," she said, accepting the drink anyway, "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"Not me. I know where that leads, and these are good shoes. I've got no desire to clean slayer puke off them."

"I hate you."

"Do not."

"We'll see. Keep it up…"

Rather than take that much too easy opening, he just waited for her to think of the appropriately piggy response, laughing when she blushed and glared at him. He kept laughing, pushing away her ineffectual swats at his head. "I didn't say a word."

"Your voice was in my brain. You've corrupted my brain." She tipped her glass up and took a big swallow. "I think drunk is the only way to deal with you."

"If you get drunk and can't remember if or who you shagged tonight, I don't want you complaining to me."

"If I get that drunk again, I expect you to save me from myself. You have to promise me."

"You've got my word, love." He leered at her. "Unless, of course, it's me you're trying to shag. Then I'm goin' off duty."

"You wish," she snorted, holding out her now-empty glass. "More please."

"You are so whipped, you make me look macho." Xander's voice only reached Spike's ears. Buffy remained happily oblivious that their conversation had been overheard.

"I could crawl after her licking those sexy little shoes, and I'd still be more manly than you are," Spike growled, elbowing his way past Xander to the bar. "Go see that she doesn't wander off while I'm refilling her glass, would you?"

Xander willingly joined Buffy who was looking at the red-haired girl and mentally twirling a stake.

"Hi. I'm on keep Buffy out of trouble duty until the undead returns."

"Hi. Did he really say that?"

"More or less. So, what's the what? Are you two really all buddy-buddy again, or is he a feeble attempt to make Dawn stop trying to fix you up?"

"Uh… some from column A and some from column B? I don't know. He's my date tonight. That's as far as we've gotten."

Xander nodded. "So, you don't mind then that he's trying to put some moves on another woman?"

"What? Where?" Buffy whipped her head around, relaxing when she saw that Spike was striking up a conversation with the red-haired vampire. "Oh, that's okay. He's just trying to find out if she's evil."

"Evil?"

"She's a vampire, Xan. Don't tell me you didn't know?"

"She wasn't a vampire last week! She works with Dawn. She can't be a vamp. You're wrong. Spike is wrong. She's…" The red-head was snarling at Spike, her fangs clearly visible for a second. "… she's a vamp. Oh shit."

"So, who's the guy she's hanging on? Do you know him too?"

"Dawn does. I think he's Sandy's boyfriend. I wonder if he knows?"

Spike worked his way back through the crowd to give Buffy her drink. He nodded his thanks at Xander before saying to Buffy, "She says she's here with her boyfriend and that she isn't planning to eat any of the guests. Told me to sod off."

"Seriously? She told you to 'sod off'?"

"Well, the American equivalent of it, she did. She's lucky I didn't dust her just for being rude."

"Maybe I should introduce myself," Buffy said. "Let's see if she wants to be rude to me." Handing Spike her drink to hold, Buffy began to work her way across the crowded room, arriving just in time to hear Dawn say, "Sandy! Where have you been? You've been out all week. I think they're going to fire you."

"Sandy's probably having a little problem getting to work – what with it being daylight then. Am I right, Sandy?" Buffy smiled her best insincere smile. "Hi. I'm Dawns sister, Buffy. The Vampire Slayer. Maybe you've heard of me?"

"Sheesh! I already told your pushy boyfriend I wasn't planning to eat anybody here. What's wrong with you people?"

"He said you were rude to him. Is that true?"

"If you mean, did I tell him to fuck off, yeah I did. He's lucky I didn't bite him."

Buffy and Dawn exchanged looks. "Do you want to tell her the facts of unlife, or should I?" Buffy asked. Dawn shrugged. "I'm just going to back to my other, heartbeat having friends. She's all yours. Hey, Sandy, I'll just tell them at work that you quit. 'k?"

As Dawn walked away, Buffy looked at Sandy with genuine sympathy. "Did you really not pick up on the fact that Spike's a vampire too? Only, you know, one that's been around for a lot longer that you have? Your chances of surviving trying to bite him would be somewhere between slim and none."

"He's a vamp? But he's with you, and you said you're a slayer."

"I'm _the _Slayer. And yes, he's with me, and we'll both be watching you tonight. One hint that you're planning to have the guests for dinner and your boyfriend's going to be kissing a pile of dust at midnight."

"Oh, so you can date a vampire, but my boyfriend can't? I see how it is…"

"Not yet you haven't…." Buffy growled as she walked away. "But keep annoying me and you will."

She rejoined Spike and took several big swallows of her drink, only stopping when she noticed the look on his face. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just…" He shrugged. "Was remembering a time when that much booze would have had you making adorable little faces." He risked running a hand down her cheek, smiling when she didn't flinch away. "Sometimes I kind of miss that little girl."

Blushing, Buffy mumbled, "That little girl is who got so drunk she threw up on your shoes." She raised her eyes and voice. "And anyway, you were feeding me straight Jack Daniels! This is a mixed drink. Much less yucky face making."

"But it can get you just as drunk," he responded, taking the glass from her hand and setting it down. "Why don't we dance instead of drinking?"

"You mean real dancing? Like to music?"

"'S what everybody else is doing, isn't it?" He gestured at the other couples swaying together in the very small area that had been cleared for dancing. "It's getting close to midnight. Everybody wants to be with their date when it comes time for the kissing." He cocked his head at her. "What did you think I meant?"

"Well, I don't know, it's just… when you talk about 'dancing' you used to mean fighting… or… other stuff that didn't involve music."

"Ah. Sorry, love. This time I just meant finding an unoccupied couple of inches on the floor and pretending we can actually move around there."

Buffy took his extended hand and let him lead her to a corner next to the couch. Ignoring the couple making out beside them, she slid her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. They gave matching sighs when his arms encircled her waist and their bodies melded together. Afraid to break the spell, neither one spoke, letting their emotions make themselves known through small shifts in position and slight caresses and squeezes.

Only when the music stopped and the countdown began, did Buffy raise her head and meet his gaze. As the New Year rang in, she went up on her toes to touch her lips to his. They remained frozen for a second, lips barely touching, until he groaned and pulled her tighter. The previous few years and events vanished as they fell into the same world-blocking kisses they'd shared for such a short time so long ago.

Not until Dawn tapped Buffy on the shoulder and cleared her throat, did they realize that the kissing time was over and everyone else was shouting and blowing on noisemakers.

"Just so you know, Sandy vamped out a few minutes ago and now I can't see her or her boyfriend anywhere."

"Shit! We forgot to watch her!"

Dawn snickered. "I'm pretty sure you forgot that anybody else was here. Xander thought we might have to throw ice water on you to get your attention." She smiled at them. "I guess that answers his question about whether or not Spike is really your date, huh?"

"We'll talk about this later," Buffy said, blushing deeply. "Or maybe… not. We have to find skanky Sandy and make sure she's just banging her boyfriend and not actually—"

"Found them, pet. This way." Spike tugged her toward the hallway where they found Sandy's boyfriend lying on the floor, his pants unzipped and Sandy's mouth on his cock. "Well, guess we did catch her—"

"If you even think about finishing that sentence, I'm going home alone," Buffy warned, whirling on him and putting her hand over his mouth. His lips moved under her fingers, air from his laughter blew over the tips. He grabbed her hand before she could pull it away and planted a kiss on her palm.

"Does that mean what I think it means? 'Cause if it does, I don't care if she drains everybody here, we're leaving now."

"Dawn and Xander are still here," Buffy said primly. "We can't let her vamp them."

"Fat chance," he scoffed. "She's what, a week old? And they've been slaying vamps for how many years? We could probably just leave and tell them to handle it."

From behind them, Sandy's boyfriend was making sounds of appreciation that seemed about to reach a crescendo. Buffy turned her back on the scene and pushed Spike out of the hall and into the main room. Dawn looked at them, a question on her face; Buffy shook her head and shrugged. She then pointed to the door and waved her good-bye.

Dawn and Xander watched them pick up their coats, studying the way Spike held Buffy's coat for her before putting his duster on. "What do you think?"

"I'll give them a couple of days before he pisses her off and they start fighting."

"Well, I _know_ that. I mean, what do you think chances are they can make it work this time. After all the … you know, Angel stuff…"

Xander shrugged. "Spike's a bigger wuss than I am when it comes to women. I'd say he's already dealt and decided he can live with it if he gets to be the one with Buffy."

With another wave, the Slayer and her vampire went out into the night.

As they walked the short distance to Buffy's apartment building, they exchanged New Year's greetings with the other revelers they passed. At some point, Spike had taken Buffy's hand in his, linking their fingers. They paused at the entrance to her building.

"My roomies are both out tonight," Buffy said, almost shyly. "They won't be home until tomorrow – if you want to…." She waved her free hand around vaguely.

"I will always want to…." He imitated her hand motions. "But I don't want to push for something you're not ready to give me. It was a pleasant night – you drank, we danced, we kissed… not stupid enough to think that means anything but that you enjoyed yourself."

"You're looking pretty stupid to me right now," she said, hands on her hips and glare firmly fixed.

"Bloody hell, Slayer. What are you trying to do – ruin a lovely evening?" His own temper rose quickly to match hers.

"I'm trying to get the man I…" She took a deep breath and exhaled explosively. "The man I love and missed and have been waiting for too damn long for him to notice it, to come upstairs and make love to me. And now you're sounding like you were just trying to show me a good time and you don't care if—mmmph—"

When he stopped kissing her this time, he pressed their foreheads together. "Say it again, Buffy."

"Say what again? That you're stupid?"

His answering snarl brought her attempt at funny to an abrupt halt. "I'm sorry. I just… this is not my thing, you know? I… I _can_ love. The First Slayer said it was my gift. But I'm not so good with the saying it, you know? But I do. Love you. I wasn't lying when I said it the first time. And if I'd known you were still alive, I would never—" Another growl stopped her. She nodded, hanging her head. "Sorry."

He shook his head. "I need to get over myself. Wasn't there; you had no reason to… I'm sorry. Forget it, Buffy."

"It's forgotten," she whispered. "Can we go upstairs now and make new memories? Better ones?"

He picked her up and began walking up the steps two at a time, kicking the locked door open without stopping. "When did you say your flat mates would be back?"

"Sometime tomorrow," she murmured into his neck, running her lips up and down it.

"Might not be done by then," he said, lowering her to unlock and open the apartment door.

"Then they can't come home."

"That's my girl." He smiled at her, setting her on her feet just inside the door of her bedroom. "But think we should close this, just in case." He shrugged out of his coat and put it on the outside doorknob before pulling the door shut. "Now where were we?"

"Making new memories," she ordered, brushing the pile of clothes off the bed and kicking off her shoes. She turned her back so that he could unzip her dress, saying apologetically, "I paid a lot of money for this dress. I don't want to destroy it."

"Wasn't planning to rip it off you, Slayer. I'm not completely devoid of self-control and common sense."

She glanced back over her shoulder and raised one eyebrow. "Who are you and what have you done with Spike?"

Very funny," he growled, nipping at the bare shoulder he'd exposed. He undid her lacy bra at the same time he finished unzipping the dress, letting them both drop to the floor. Buffy carefully stepped out, bending over to pick it up and presenting him with a view of her thong-clad ass. His growl deepened and she giggled as she stood up and carefully put the dress over the back of a chair.

"Problem?" She shimmied out of her thong, leaving it on floor and facing him.

There was no reply; he just picked her up and tossed her into the middle of the bed, ripping his own shirt off while she lay there giggling at him. His pants were soon gone, and he launched himself at her, landing on his hands and knees. He lowered himself to rest upon her body, fastening his lips on hers. When she was whimpering under him, he lifted his head to look down at her. She met his eyes, refusing to flinch from the love there that had made her so uncomfortable at one time.

"New memories," he said, as if reading her mind.

"New memories," she responded, wrapping her arms and legs around him and pulling him into her. "New Year, new memories, new beginning."

**The end.**

_Summary: A little fill-in-the-blanks moment that goes in a slightly Spuffier direction than the comic did. For those not following the comics, Buffy has had her arm ripped off by a zompire, only to find she is apparently a robot. Which is news to her... She has gone with Spike in his ship, but they've had some misunderstandings already. The misunderstanding is canon, Buffy's explanation, not so much..._

"**What Were We Talking About When We Were So Rudely Interrupted?**

"If one more bug asks me if I want him to recycle my arm..."

"Can't blame them, love. You're clearly not bleeding to death and the arm isn't flesh. Just looks like molting exoskeleton to them. Let me see that," he pointed toward the stump protruding from her shoulder.

"You're the robot expert," she muttered, moving closer to him. "How can I think I'm me, if I'm not me? And if I am me, what am I doing in a f****ing robot? Where's the real me? Am I dead? Like, is my body dead, and Andrew or somebody put me into a Buffybot so no one would know... including me?" She squirmed when Spike poked at the wires and broken metallic "bones" that were all that was left of her right arm.

"Did that hurt?"

"No, it just feels weird, watching somebody poking at what should be a pretty excruciating wound."

Spike nodded. "Might be a good time to be glad you're not flesh and blood right now," he said. "I'm not sure if we... not that I wouldn't have tried, but a wound like that would have needed immediate first aid, far beyond my abilities."

"Am I just a BuffyBot, Spike?" Buffy's voice was soft and unsure. "Is that all I am? Do I just think I'm real?" She raised her eyes to his. "I remember talking to BuffyBot — she thought she was real."

"She did, sometimes... but she also knew when she was running a program of some sort. "S why she couldn't fight quite like you can – no ability to think past what had been programmed in to her. No creativity."

"Not even when you were..."

"Especially not then," he said shortly, moving away from her. "All she knew to do was keep repeatin' the same bloody program." He sighed and gave her a small smile. "Trust me, love. It was nothing like the real thing."

"Is that why you haven't touched me except to look at my arm? I'm not the real thing anymore, am I?"

He shook his head. "Don't be daft, I just— You sound like you, you act like you, you have to be you... but..."

"But I'm just another Bot. BuffyBot 3.0. The new, improved version that can be snarky and mean, and say things that hurt you...but isn't worth touching." She slumped against the back of the bed. "You won't love me if I'm a bot, will you? If you can't touch me, or—"

"Get over yourself, Slayer. I've loved you for most of the past ten years, and only got to touch you for a few months of that. It's got nothing to do with you being a Bot. It's not you, it's me."

"The classic break-up line." Her shoulders slumped even more. "Okay, I'll just pack everything up and beg my roommates to take me back." She raised her chin and met his eyes. "Just for the record, I'm sorry for whatever I said that made you go stomping out of the room earlier."

He looked at her hard. "You said what you felt. I'm your dark place, your not-normal...and it's not what you want."

"IF!"

"What?"

"I said IF I wanted normal, you'd be what I was running from. I didn't do that, did I? I ran TO you. I wasn't saying I wanted normal, you moron. I was saying IF I did, you wouldn't be it. Cause you're not—normal. And neither am I. Hell, we're not even normal for slayers and vampires. We keep dying and then we're alive again... You run around in a spaceship... I'm a pregnant robot— How does that even happen? Did I get drunk and have sex with a... a... sewing machine?"

Her voice had climbed higher and higher as she shouted at him, then it dropped to a whisper. "Right now, you _are _the normal one. I'm the freak - a one armed, pregnant robot, who nobody w...wa...wants." She was suddenly speaking through big, gulping sobs, her whole body shaking.

"Oh Buffy..." Spike was beside her quickly, his hands suspended in the air as he tried to comfort her without actually touching. When she raised tear-filled eyes that could only have belonged to one person, he gasped and pulled her into his chest, letting her cry it out while he held her, murmuring heartfelt platitudes about making it all right. When her sobs had tapered off to hiccups, he pushed her away and took her face in both hands. Holding her gaze, he said, "I've got no bloody idea what's happened to you, or how or why you're suddenly mechanical, but I know it's you in there. You're my Buffy, and we'll figure this out. You and me, we'll figure it out."

**the end**


End file.
